


Deep Blue Suicide

by cadkitten



Category: Dir en grey
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Sex, Angst, Cigarettes, Dom/sub, Explicit Language, Fluff, M/M, Masturbation, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-01-03
Updated: 2008-01-11
Packaged: 2017-11-13 23:08:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/508711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadkitten/pseuds/cadkitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I wish... I wish just once more, I could feel you in my arms. It's too late in the year for wishes though. Christmas is coming and I know I'll never get what I truly want. The dream and the hope are too far fetched. I want the moon and the stars and all I can grasp is the reflection of the sun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Despite the title, there is no suicide. The title just seems to fit.  
> Written for the diexkyocontests Contest (December 1st - February 1st). I'm going to apologize in advance for this. I'm going to shift POV a few times during this. While I'm not sure if it's actually a legal move in terms of being correct in the English community, I don't care. It's how I see it in my head and that's how it's going to have to flow in order to get out all that needs to come from it. NOTE: Despite the title, there is no suicide. The title just seems to fit.

Maybe it's just all of this time alone in my mind that makes me wonder things that perhaps I should not. Or maybe it's these thirteen years between us that forces my thoughts to where they do not belong. Whatever it is, it bends and twists at everything inside of me, shoving me to the brink of reality and back. My dreams entwine with reality and thoughts of the past become more than they were. I know that's what it has to be, because if what I recall as the truth really were the truth, we wouldn't be like this. Everything would be vastly different. Thirty four years old and still lying to myself; it's like some kind of absurd joke.

I shift in my seat and down the second beer of the night, wishing like hell it wasn't just the second. It's almost futile to grasp for the feeling that I want. Not with you sitting beside me. Watching me; waiting on me to fuck up again. I can see it in your eyes every time yours meet mine. I made a promise to you almost a year ago and so far I've kept it. But still you look at me like you expect me to fail you. If only you knew all of the truth... you'd realize that I would never intentionally fall short for you. I'd break every piece of myself before I did that. And, sadly, that is exactly what I've done during this year.

The things you do not know will not hurt you. Or at least I tell myself that each time. The ways I end up dealing with what I used to drown in alcohol are probably far more harmful for me. But you'll never find out the truth and that's all that matters. Because now you think I'm on the right path, you think you've solved all my problems. And that is exactly how I'll let it remain.

My eyes follow you as you slip back into the booth beside me with a bottle of water. Always so careful, so prepared and calculated. I already know that water isn't yours, but rather, it's mine. Two beers, one water, and I have to stop at four, no matter what. If I don't, I'll have failed you.

You shove the water toward me after taking one sip and I eagerly take it and drain it, licking lightly at the rim when you aren't looking. Your taste remains there and it only feeds old memories, thoughts from long, long ago. The feeling of your lips against mine, the sweet taste of your mouth laced with the slight undertone of cigarettes. I shudder slightly as I set the bottle back down and I don't even think about it as I fling my arm around your shoulders and move closer to you. I need to feel you close again... so badly. It's been too long since I could even touch you without worrying about your reaction. I feel you tense the instant I settle against you and you immediately shrug my arm off and give me a dirty look.

"Jesus, Die. Are you already so wasted you'll hang on anyone? I'm not gay, so shove off!"

I wince visibly as I all but yank my arm back from you. You have no idea how much your words cut me. You think it's funny, the smile dancing on your lips says you do. I turn my head away, tears threatening at the corners of my eyes. Men don't cry... what the hell is wrong with me? Too much stress, that has to be it. I stand up and realize after a few steps that you think I'm drunk and that if you knew I wasn't, there would be hell to pay. I pause mid-step and think about it for a moment. Which would be worse? You knowing I did that willingly while I'm sober or you thinking that I failed you? I bite my lip until I can taste the metallic tang of blood in my mouth. For the sake of secrets and lies, I'll pretend what isn't even true. I begin to walk again and purposely stumble away toward the bathroom.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Kaoru looks up from his drink, carefully studying Kyo as Die stumbles off from the table. The irritation is evident in the smaller man's eyes as he follows the drunken progress of his friend.

"I knew he'd break his promise eventually." The sound of Kyo's voice is bitter and low.

Kaoru's voice is level and certain when he speaks. "He's not drunk. He's faking it."

"What?" Kyo turns to look at the other, confusion lying thickly over his features. "What the hell do you mean, he's not drunk?"

Kaoru shifts his drink from one hand to the other, back and forth, an almost lazy representation of his mental deliberation. "Can you stand the truth if I tell you what I see?"

Kyo leans closer, his elbows propped on the table in front of him. "Why wouldn't I be able to?"

Kaoru shrugs as he lifts his eyes to meet the other's. "He likes you..."

"Well, obviously, or else we wouldn't hang out."

"That's not how I mean."

Reality sets in and realization dawns across pale features. "Oh..."

Kaoru says nothing more than that, gesturing behind Kyo and resuming staring at his drink as Die comes back to the table.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I stumble back to the table, having gone to the restroom and done what I should not have. Two bad things all at once. Now he thinks I've failed him and all along I'm really failing everyone while I'm in the other room. Which is worse? The lie or the one I'm covering with it? I shake off the feeling and lean heavily on the side of the table. I purposely try to slur my words just a bit as I speak. "Home... should go home." I hold up my cell phone. "I'll get a cab."

You almost immediately stand up and take my phone from me, shaking your head. Your fingers brush across mine as you pull the metallic object from my fingers. I don't understand it... why can you touch me and I can't touch you? It makes no sense.

"I'll take you home." You glance back at Kaoru and he nods, accepting your unspoken message for him and the others to find their own way back tonight. You steer me away from the table and out to your car, carefully loading me in, like the drunkard I'm pretending to be. I watch you come around the car and wish like hell I didn't have to pull things like this just to be alone with you. You never accept my invitations anymore unless it's something with all of us. Maybe I make you uncomfortable, like you subconsciously know what my true feelings are or something. Either way, it's harder for me this way. I do everything for you and you push me even further away in the process.

You get in the car and pull out of the parking lot and into the still-steady stream of traffic. I watch you from behind the curtain of my hair as I pretend to be half asleep. I wish... I wish just once more, I could feel you in my arms. It's too late in the year for wishes though. Christmas is coming and I know I'll never get what I truly want. The dream and the hope are too far fetched. I want the moon and the stars and all I can grasp is the reflection of the sun.

The minutes tick by and still I watch you, always looking away when you glance over at me, checking on me. It's like some kind of absurd game that we will eternally play and you'll never know about. I can't help the soft sigh that leaves my lips as we pull up to my apartment complex. You don't even seem to notice as you get out of the car and come around to collect me from my seat. I let you, simply to feel your hands on my skin. Tiny sparks of pleasure run over every inch that you touch and the drunken act I'm putting on isn't so half-hearted anymore as we start up the stairs to the second floor. You wait on me to open the door and follow me inside, just as you used to when I'd drink too much. This routine is all too familiar and some part of that hurts me deeper than you'll ever know. I don't want you to think lowly of me, but I have to remember that this is for my own sake... to hide the bigger secret. A sacrifice of a sliver of pride, just to keep my heart intact.

I bend over and take off my shoes, completely forgetting that I've never been able to do that when I'm truly drunk. You'd always end up taking me to the bedroom and helping me with them. You watch me with confusion in your eyes, but I'm too busy focusing on swaying while untying my shoes to notice. Once both of them are off and lying to the side, I straighten up and give you a lopsided smile. "Sorry I failed you..." The smile doesn't meet my eyes; it doesn't even find a home in my voice.

Your eyes flash with something close to anger, but not quite. It causes guilt to rise up inside of me and I have to turn away. I hold the wall as I attempt to make my way down the hallway, still acting like I'm completely wasted.

"Oh give it up... you're not drunk." Your voice sounds irritated and... hurt? Why would you sound hurt if you know I'm faking it? I stop and close my eyes. You'd only sound hurt if you knew more than you should, that's the only plausible answer.

I can feel the panic well up inside of me and I quickly turn and head toward the kitchen, not bothering with the charade anymore. I just need to kill this feeling. I want it to die as calmly and quickly as possible. I reach the kitchen and I yank a half-empty bottle of vodka from the shelf and all but rip the lid off in my haste to get to it. But before I can even get it to my mouth you hand closes around my wrist and you pull the bottle from my grasp.

"Die... why are you doing this?" Your fingers are still on me, burning at my skin. As much as I want your touch, I don't want it right now. Not like this. I shove your fingers away and slam my fist into the marble counter top before me. I'm shaking now. It's all gone too far.

Your hands are on me again. This time gently stroking my back in languid circles, as if to comfort me. I can't help the anger in my voice when I finally manage to get enough of a grip on myself to speak. "You wouldn't understand, even if I told you everything. You'd think it was all some meaningless joke."

You sigh. It's such a soft and simple sound coming from you. A gentle whisper of air leaving your perfect lips. "I think I may already know at least some of the truth. So you may as well spit it out."

I stiffen at your words, not wanting it to be true. What part do you know? Just how screwed am I in reality? The panic comes back even quicker this time and I make another grab for the bottle. You yank it from my reach and I let out a whimper, something like a kicked puppy. "Please..."

You shake your head as you screw the cap back on and place it back up on the shelf. "You're sober and you're staying that way... especially for this."

My fingers itch to do other things, the things I can only do alone, away from prying eyes. I do my best to squash the urge and stare at you as stupidly as possible. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

You reach out and let your fingers slide down my arm as you all but whisper your reply. "I... I know you're bisexual."

I almost choke on my own saliva at your words. Is that all? That's all you really know? I can't thank enough gods for that. Maybe, just maybe you can deal with that. Maybe you won't hate me like I know you would if you knew more than that. I heave out a sigh of relief and slump against the counter. "Oh..." I stare at the floor, not wanting to see the volume of disgust I'm sure is written in your eyes.

"Is that all you have to say about that?"

I nod as I push away from the counter and start back toward the door. "Yup, that's it. You can go now that you know I'm not drunk."

You follow me. I can tell, even without hearing you. Your presence weighs on me like it always does. You pause at the door and look back at me as I lean against the wall, waiting on you to leave. "Why pretend, then?"

I level my gaze with yours, knowing that at the very least my masculinity is at stake here. "I didn't think you knew and judging from your reaction when I touched you, I had better have been drunk." I shrug slightly, trying my best to play it off as less than it was. "So I played drunk."

You look at me, sadness clear in your eyes. "I was only joking, Die... you should know that."

I can't help the anger I feel as I remember your comment and how very much it hurt. "Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot that your jokes always hurt like that." My entire body seems to radiate my resentment as I gesture at the door. "You know where you can take your jokes from now on? Out that door."

You bow your head and open the door, pausing only to whisper a soft apology before shutting it behind you.

I let myself slide to the floor and put my head in my hands. So many things I could have said... could have done; and I chose to do the one thing that hurts both of us the most. Why is it that a wounded heart fights back in such a manner? Why is it that my agony only becomes deeper the more and more I try to end it? The more I do for you, the more I let out that should never be allowed to surface. The more I feel, the more I wish I could just shut it all off. I rake my hands through my hair as I squeeze my eyes shut, a soft sound of pain leaving my lips as I pull harder than I mean to.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wish... I wish just once more, I could feel you in my arms. It's too late in the year for wishes though. Christmas is coming and I know I'll never get what I truly want. The dream and the hope are too far fetched. I want the moon and the stars and all I can grasp is the reflection of the sun.

It's Christmas day. I sit on the floor beside the tiny tree that I went ahead and put up for the sake of culture. Even the bright colors of the various-shaped bangles don't quite register as anything but a dull and faded grey. It's like I can see the colors, but they're not really there and I know it. Apparently when your life falls apart in front of your eyes, it shoves your every sense into reclusion.

I run my hands over my arms as I stare at the packages under the tree. So many and yet I can only focus on one. It's from you and I can't stop thinking that if we'd had our argument just days earlier, then you'd never have given it to me at all. Or would you have? You haven't called... but that's not unusual for you. No one else has heard from you either, but somehow they all know that my secret is out. Toshiya's asked me how I hid it for so long. Shinya just looks at me warily whenever I'm near. And Kaoru... well, Kaoru acts the same as always. He must have told you. He's got it all figured out... got me all figured out.

I shift slightly and pull your gift into my lap. It's the size and feel of a book, so that's what it has to be. But what book would you have gotten me? You know I spend my spare time on guitar and not reading. Or maybe I only dream that you know me that well. Maybe I've overlooked every truth in my life that should have been so blatantly obvious. If I could even look at things rationally anymore, I'd realize that the look in your eyes wasn't just sadness, that the hurt I feel is all but mirrored within you. But I can't look at things that way anymore, not when I feel like the world has fallen down on top of me.

Carefully, I peel up the tape holding your tidy wrapping job together. Everything so carefully placed; it's all so very you. The silver wrapping falls away revealing a black leather cover with your name on it. Confusion clouds my gaze and I lift the book from its former home, bringing it to my face. I close my eyes and inhale its scent. It's a mixture of cigarettes, old paper, and something so distinctly you that it has me inwardly aching for your presence. I just want to see you again. I won't even touch you, I promise. I place the book against my chest for a moment, hugging it as if it's really you.

It takes me almost twenty minutes before I can move on; slowly opening the cover to reveal what might lie beneath. A neatly scrawled message greets me from the front cover.

_Die,_

_I can never think of what you'd like best when it comes to giving you something. I always think about getting you a new guitar that I design or something stupid like that, but then I realize you'd be mad at me for spending so much. In the end, I always end up giving you the lamest gifts out of everyone. For once, I wanted to give you something unique. I filled the last page of this tonight and realized it was possibly the best thing I could give you... a piece of me. You always seem to want to know more of how I really think, of what I truly feel. Well... here's your chance._

_Kyo_

Slowly I turn the pages, caressing each one as I go, as though I can pick up some small part of the other man from each page. Every word strikes me, every drawing claws at my heart, and the very thought attaches to my soul and refuses to let go. I feel like the dying embers of a fire, alone and growing colder by the moment. 

_Blinding euphoria pours over me  
I tremble at my own touch  
All the pain seeping from my body  
Mentally I am finally free  
All bonds untied  
All restraints broken  
I let my life slip to the brink  
Let the feeling of freedom consume me  
Only then do I stop it _

I'll never rid myself of these words. Not that I'd want to, but now it'd be impossible. Is this all I have left of you? Or was it all I ever had? 

_Days like today slowly break a person in two, pull the soul to its furthest limits. Crushing blows, caught between helping and falling apart yourself. Emotionally unstable, both you and the one you so desperately try to help. Nothing works anymore... pointless, but yet you continue to try. Tape up the holes and push toward a better future, toward hope and the existence of something other than this hell._

_Created pain, tugging at the edges of their life. Pushing the limits of their frail emotion, forcing that pain of old deeper and deeper. Only an empty, cold void where the emotion should have been. That growing knot deep within you, crushing you with its volume and catching your breath as you breathe it._

_What can possibly be said? What more can possibly be done? You try so hard and fail so fast. If only you could shut all of the pain of the past, the newest pain, all of it away, just to protect the one you care so deeply for. To keep that one from the harsh, cruel reality of the world.... What would you not give for that power? Would you give an arm, a leg, a piece of your heart or soul? Would you give up the better moments of your past just to give those memories to that one person? Most would not... but the only question that really matters is... would I?_

So many pieces of this speak volumes of how much you see beneath your seemingly unseeing eyes. I wonder when you wrote this, when you pulled your heart out and slapped it upon the paper. 

_  
Picture perfect, dying in black  
Fading memories, swirling illusions of the past  
Another time, another place  
Here, Then, Now, and Gone _

Twenty pages and only snatches of each thing remaining in memory - each of them deeper than the last, each one ripping me in two.

_Here I stand, before your very eyes  
The embodiment of your disregard_

_..._

_Meaningless haze of eternity in a single breath  
Dance a wicked sin, follow into never_

_..._

_A single eternity, a million more lies to follow  
Deeper... deeper... a grave to seek_

_..._

_Grasping for that which I cannot reach  
Mixture of truth and deception  
Eternal blindness in brightest light_

_..._

_Desperation pleads insanity into the darkened night_

_..._

_Raining from the skies in perfect disillusion  
Drown me in perfection of darkness_

_..._

_Truth is the illusion, lies are paved in gold  
Love is a tie that binds... and blinds_

_..._

_Is this feeling something too elaborate? Are these walls really doing as I feel they are? Is the reality of it all that I'm standing too close to the edge... so close to falling off? My fingers paint the walls a silly charcoal brown. The color of anguish. One would think perhaps it'd be more than that, brighter, bigger... better._

It is as though your internal anguish meets with mine and combines upon these pages. The same and then not. One and the same, yet so very far apart. I close the book because I can't stand it anymore, because I can't feel you like this and know that you're not here beside of me. I feel like I'm missing a part of myself with every word I read, with every morbid drawing ripped from your fingertips and planted on these pages. Nothing from you comes softly or easily. For you, everything is ripped harshly from your grasp, shoved forcefully into reality from the brink of wherever you stand. That much is obvious to me now. Maybe you have given me something I never thought you could with this. If I'm holding so many secrets... what are you hiding from the world?

Almost mechanically, I open the other gifts from under the tree. A new guitar pick design from Kaoru. Silk boxers from Toshiya... that figures. A couple of CDs from a band I've never heard of from Shinya. A gift card from my Aunt and socks and a few t-shirts from my Mother. There are some gifts from industry people I don't even remember, mostly gift cards or invitations to meals with them after the holidays.

Even in a pile, the only thing that sticks out, almost beckoning to me, is your leather-bound book. I pick it up and go to my bedroom, staring out the open window as I clutch it against me. I'm blind to what I see, but that doesn't matter anymore. Maybe I shouldn't give up wishing. I wanted you for Christmas... and in a way I have a part of you now.

If I wish bigger, will it come true as well? If I find hope in the small things, maybe the ultimate failures won't feel so big anymore.

I watch as the last rays of the sun fade away, taking the day along with it. It must feel like I do... dragged along, clutching for something to keep it here, but always failing. Even through my slight hope, I find nothing but the dismal undertones. Is this life without you? If it is, then maybe it's not quite worth living.

I hold my piece of you closer, hoping against all hope that it can provide me the support to get to the New Year without you. I won't call... and I know you won't either. Maybe I cannot have you because I do not deserve you in my life. I shut my eyes, trying to block reality out as I let myself sink into a world full of you and me.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wish... I wish just once more, I could feel you in my arms. It's too late in the year for wishes though. Christmas is coming and I know I'll never get what I truly want. The dream and the hope are too far fetched. I want the moon and the stars and all I can grasp is the reflection of the sun.

I can't get your words out of my head. No matter how hard I try, every letter you've written in this book embeds itself into me. I may as well have carved them into my own flesh. It feels like I have. Maybe everyone's wrong about how memory is written. Is it possible that some things are written with the finest-tipped pen, etched for eternity into the folds of your mind? If that were the truth, then perhaps it'd be the things that mean the most to you, so that they'll never distort and warp the way my other memories have.

Time is a brutal instrument when it comes to my memories of you; everything twisted into what I wish had been rather than what really was. Five, seven, possibly even ten years from now, I guess we'll see what time does to these words. At least I already know what will happen to the paper. Time will fade the text and yellow these pages. If I hide it away, I could preserve it longer. But I can't do that... I can't let you go like that.

I saw you at practice yesterday. But you came late and left in a rush. You didn't even glance at me the entire time. Every break, you ran off somewhere I couldn’t find you. It ripped me apart inside; I hope you know that. Your words may have hurt, but this hurts more. I regret what I said. I regret you finding out what you did. Most of all, I regret losing you this way. I'd take you screaming at me over this. I'd withstand your hatred and your piercing words, just to have you say a single thing to me again.

It's why I hold this book the way I do. It's why it lies at my bedside each night and stays with me throughout each day. I can't let you go. I _won't_ let you go.

I've read every page but the last. I can't bring myself to read it. Pieces of what you've said hang over me and within me. Each phrase is like a single razorblade deep inside of me, cutting away at who I am, who I've been, and who I'll ever be. Reading the last one will bring an end to whatever this is and I'm not sure I can close it in such a way. I feel like, if I do, I'll end right along with it. Maybe I shouldn't feel that way, but I do and there's nothing that's going to change that.

I've tried to create music to go with the lyrics you gave us before the holidays. But I can't seem to produce anything when I feel like this. There's four lines written and all of those came before you left my life. I put the pencil to the paper and somehow I'm no longer myself. Is this how it feels for you when you can't get the words to come out? Or is this how everyone feels when a piece of their soul has been ripped out?

Tears... I wish the tears would come now. Men don't cry, but at this point, I'm not really anything except here. I am not a man. I am not human. I am not here. I am nothing. Do I exist? The solidity of the leather against my fingers tells me I do. The feel of the cold floor beneath me claims yes is the answer. But is that what existence is? To feel? What does it mean to _be_?

Why is it that I have lost myself so easily? Were you really the only thing holding me together all these years? Can one person anchor you to existence and then take it all away in an instant? I'm floating in nothingness and am the nothingness at the same time. How can that be? Maybe you said it best. Your words always say it best... or at least better than mine.

But yet you can be so wrong in the next breath. Darkness is anything but my friend. If it were my friend, I would not have laid within it, crying my soul out in vain. Or maybe that is what a friend is. Something to wrap yourself up in to hide from the truth. But wouldn't a true friend force the truth instead of allowing you to live forever lost in your own blindness? I lose myself in my own mind sometimes.

At least there's some pearl of truth in your words. Love _is_ the tie that binds... and blinds. I'm bound to you and blinded by you all at the same time. I see your imperfections and they do not matter. I am willing to forget every painful word if only I could have you back. I'd give anything for you... to you. I'm empty without you. Can't you feel it? This void inside of me; gaping like some gigantic chasm, waiting to swallow me whole. How far out of my reach must you be for it to take me away?

My phone vibrates in my pocket, jerking me roughly from my musings. At least I didn't have the ringer on. I'd probably have ripped out a page of your book if I had. A sigh leaves my lips as I pull the seemingly pointless contraption from my pocket and flip it open, not even bothering to look at the caller ID.

"Hello?" My voice sounds hollow... weak... just like me.

"Hi."

Your voice traps my breath in my lungs. I can't get it out. It's like I'm strangling on the very thing that keeps me alive. You called. Why are you calling? You never call. I close my eyes and force myself to breathe properly again. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest, as though I've run a million miles. "Kyo..." The word leaves me as a breathy sigh. It feels so good to say your name again, rather than just think it. My universe has shrunk down into you, me, and the phone that connects us. Even my little piece of you lays forgotten in my lap as I hold onto the phone with both hands.

"Hey... um, I wanted to invite you over for New Year's. I'm having a party starting at eight New Year's Eve and I wanted you to come."

You sound nervous, like you think I won't come. I'll always come when it's for you. Always. But I can't help but feel like maybe there's more to it. Like maybe you don't want me there and are just inviting me so you don't hurt my feelings. "Are you sure you want me there?" Anger in my voice... I don't mean for it to be there, but it is anyway.

"Of course I do, Die. I... I'm sorry about the other night. I really didn't mean to hurt you."

I don't know what to say. I want to say it's alright, but it's not. It's not alright that you made me feel like an ass. It's not alright that you all but ripped out my heart and stomped on it. But how could you know? I don't make it obvious how I feel about you... and I never will. I have to forgive you. I can't forget, but I have to forgive. I can't move on if I don't. I have to move on, because I can't live like this. So I let my forgiveness slip past my lips, trying so hard to keep from betraying just how much it hurts. "It's okay... you didn't know."

"How much more don't I know?"

Too much. I need to say it, but I can't. That'd just be letting you know how many eggshells you have left to tread upon. We've lived with these secrets for so long that it can't hurt to live on them longer. Or can it? I close my eyes and let the silence be my answer. It's the best I can give you.

You sigh and I feel bad for not answering. Have I let you down? I'm so scared. I'm not sure what of, but I am. Maybe of losing you again in an instant. You're here now, right on the other end of the phone. Or are you just pretending to be? My self-doubt is falling over the edges of everything else... clouding reality. "I really liked your present." I'm not sure why I said it. It just kind of slipped out to fill the silence.

"Really?"

You sound skeptical, like you think I'm lying. If only you knew that it, and it alone, is why I'm still talking to you right now. Maybe you'd never ask that question again, if you knew. But you don't... and you won't. I won't let you find out. "Yes. It-" _it's a part of what I've always wanted_ , words I can't say. "It's really unique." Lame. Such a poor representation of how I really feel about it.

"Good, I'm glad. I liked yours, too. They fit perfectly."

I got you a new pair of shoes that I designed. Stupid gift, but I know how you like custom shoes. At least I know you'll wear them. Does that put my ideas under your feet? Or maybe it puts them on your feet. I guess in a way, it's a piece of me with you now. Fitting, I suppose. "You really like them? I designed them myself."

"They're awesome! I'm going to wear them to the party. You'll have to come to see how they look on me. You will come, won't you?"

Only now do I realize I haven't really answered you. How often do I do that and no one calls me on it? Maybe I never answer and no one cares. Or perhaps they just never notice. It's a part of who I am, I guess. "Yes, I'll come."

"I'll see you then, okay?"

You sound happy. Can I actually make you happy? Has it made you sad the way being apart from you has made me sad? Is it wrong of me to hope that you've felt the way I have all this time? Why am I still not happy? Am I not allowing myself to be? All I can see is the potential failure on my part... maybe that's why. "Okay." My voice sounds hollow and empty again. Do you notice? I'm torn between wanting you to and not.

"Night."

"Night." I barely get the word in before you hang up the phone. I wonder if you even heard me. Probably not. Slowly I close my own phone and shove it back into my pocket.

Once more my attention returns to the piece of you that I hold in my lap. Maybe I can read this last little piece of you and not close myself out now. Slowly I open to the last page and allow your words to consume me.

_Last page..._

_I keep thinking something truly meaningful or overly grand must be written here. It's the last page. That has to mean something big, doesn't it? But then I realize that maybe the most meaningful thing I can do is write to you, Die. I'm giving this to you, so then this last entry should be **for** you... about you._

_I see you as the only person who sees through my mask. You know almost instinctively when I'm upset or when I need you by my side._

_I'd normally try to say this in some heavy way, with deeper words and sheltered meanings. But I want my point to really sink in. I don't want to leave you lost or without the understanding you seek._

_I need you in my life. Something threw us together in the first place and something else keeps us here. I can never quite figure out what it is, but something ties us as one. On the outside, I'd say you're my best friend. But on the inside, it's more than that. How much more? I'm unsure. All I really know is how many times you've stopped me from doing what I shouldn't, how many times you've saved me from myself and not even known it._

_I worry about you. Please understand when I ask you for something, I do it for your own good. I asked what I did of you last New Year's because every time you drank in excess... every beer you'd down... it was another part of me dying. I know more than you think. I understand you're trying to drown something out with it. But why can't I help instead? I'm here... I'm always here. I can say it here - Come to me with whatever it is and let me be the shoulders to bear the weight of whatever it is._

_I guess the only question left is - Will you let me?_

_Here's to eternity~_

_Kyo_

Your words are caught in my chest and these tears in my eyes. Blind... I am blind. No, I _have_ been blind. But I am no longer. You've taught me to see once again.

I've been good... I've not done what I should not in days. I come and hold this piece of you instead. Maybe if I could hold you for real, the urge would subside completely. I'll stay good... for you. I'll come to your New Year's party without the evidence of my pain attached to me. I'll prove myself to you once more. Will it be good enough for you? Only time will see.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wish... I wish just once more, I could feel you in my arms. It's too late in the year for wishes though. Christmas is coming and I know I'll never get what I truly want. The dream and the hope are too far fetched. I want the moon and the stars and all I can grasp is the reflection of the sun.

It's nine o'clock on New Year's Eve. And where am I? Sitting on the edge of my bed at home. I'm sitting here like some kind of child. It took me over an hour to prepare myself for your party and now I'm sitting here holding my piece of you, unwilling to leave it behind, but unwilling to bring it with me. I don't want to look like the idiot that I feel I am by clinging to this like some kind of security blanket right in front of you. What would you think if you knew? Probably not at all what I'd expect.

The bottle of non-alcoholic champagne that I'm bringing for you lies beside me on the bed. It's cold and little droplets of condensation roll down the sides of it and soak into my comforter. I feel like crying. Maybe it's crying for me so that I don't have to. I glance out the window. At least the world isn't crying for me yet. It looks like it might, though.

I'm over an hour late... that thought keeps recycling itself over and over in my mind. And yet, I do not move from my spot. I run one hand through my hair, wishing like hell it was as long as it used to be. I could hide behind it back then... it's a little harder to now. But you said you like it at this length, so I keep it like this.

As I sit here, it becomes clearer and clearer why I'm not leaving. My mind is cycling over the party and how many people must already be drunk by now. I don't want to truly let you down... and I know that like this, I will. I poured all my alcohol down the drain last night because I wanted the comfort of it so bad. I couldn't keep myself away from it with it sitting on my shelf taunting me. Every last drop went away; even the cooking wine you bought me. I'm so sorry, I wasted your gift. But maybe you'd be proud of me for doing what I needed to do in order to stop myself.

When I stop to think about it, every time I get rid of one bad habit another replaces it. First I smoked like a train. Then you quit smoking and I knew I should tone it down so you wouldn't have to see me do it all the time. I increased how much I was eating just to replace the cigarettes I didn't have. The fans said I was fat. You didn't look at me the same anymore. You thought I was fat too... I know you did. So I stopped eating.

Why can't I do anything in moderation? Maybe it's just meant to be like that with some people. All or nothing. No middle-ground.

And then I fell in love with you. I fell so hard and you didn't even notice. I knew I could never tell you and so I replaced the words that I wanted to say with alcohol. For years I'd drink every chance I got, because when I was drunk, it was okay to be closer to you... it was okay to play like I was just a touchy-feely drunk. And I could never clearly remember the look in your eyes afterward. I could fool myself that maybe you didn't hate me hanging all over you. Plus it numbs the pain of my heart. The longing ache is just a tiny bit better when I'm so full of alcohol that I can't even walk straight. So many reasons for slowly drowning myself in the booze.

Then you confronted me about it. You asked me to stop drinking so much... even offered to help me with it. We set a limit and I stuck to it like glue. But, the thing is, the one bit of reprieve I had was then gone. I couldn't stand it. I'm so sorry, but I just couldn't. I had to find something else to kill the hurt. And I did... I found it and I relied upon it just as heavily as the alcohol. Only that damaged me, too... maybe even worse than the original pain. Is the physical worse than the emotional? Perhaps that depends on which end of the spectrum you're sitting on. For me, it was both better and worse. Better because it dulled the aching throb that has become my heart. Worse because I knew, in a way, I was betraying you each and every time.

It's not that I didn't realize that I shouldn't. But why am I explaining? You'd know better than anyone why I'd do what I did. Or maybe you really are all for show. It's sad how much I really don't know about you. How I can't tell if your words are you or a simple reach into someone else? I can't. Maybe you don't even know anymore.

I shift slightly, closing my eyes and letting the book slide to the floor with a soft thump. The book. Oh, sweet gods, the book... _your_ book. It's maybe the worst of it all. Actually, no maybe about it. It is my drug, my alcohol, my pain, and my pleasure. I'm tied to it like some kind of absurd lifeline. As though, if I let it go, I'll cease to exist. But yet, I've just let go and I'm still here. Or am I? I'm in my own mind again. Or maybe I'm in someone else's mind and am just a figment of their imagination. Am I in yours? Is that why I care for you so? Absurd. All of it. And yet, it's not. Can you prove to me that I exist? Give me reason and will. Show me who I'm really meant to be.

My eyes find the clock once more. Now it's seventeen past ten. I've spent so damn long just sitting here wasting away. I've spent so many years of my life wasting away, right in front of you. Have you noticed? I know you have in at least some small way. Otherwise you wouldn't have demanded what you did of me last year. Maybe that's why I'm afraid to go. I'm afraid that little bit of caring will be gone.

Why can't I feel like you do about me? It would all be so much simpler that way. But life isn't simple... I'm not simple. I thought you were complex until I found myself drowning within this pool of emotion. Now I find that I'm no less complex than you.

Slowly I stand up, grasping the cool bottle in my left hand and my keys in my right. I leave my apartment behind, glancing back as if it might disappear the instant I leave it. I clutch the bottle close against me as I leave the building and stride down the almost empty streets. If I don't hurry, I'll miss the last train to your part of town. If I don't make the train, I'll never be there by midnight. Maybe that wouldn't matter to you, but it would to me. I want to see you one last time before I wish everything away.

I use my rail pass and barely manage to make it in the doors of the train as they slide shut. My jacket gets caught and I curse at it as I tug it free, almost dropping the champagne as I do. But I catch it just in time and lean back against the wall of the train. There's an elderly woman sitting on the seat opposite where I'm standing. I watch her because I have nothing better to do. Anything to take my mind off what I have to do tonight.

The minutes tick by. They pass too slowly for me, but maybe I'm the only one on slow today. Four stops later, I exit the train. The lady gets off too, barely getting her rolling bag off as the doors slide shut with a whoosh. Then the train's gone and she's behind me, struggling up the stairs. I can hear her. It's like she's breathing her last breaths and I can't help but think that I should help her and buy her just a little more time in this life. I sigh as I shove the bottle in my pocket and pause, waiting for her to catch up with me on the staircase. Once she's beside me I offer my assistance and she smiles, handing me the bag. I take her bag in one hand and offer her my other arm. It takes us almost fifteen minutes to exit the train station and get her going in the right direction.

As I leave her, heading in another direction, I glance at my watch. It's just past eleven. I shiver against the cold and retrieve the bottle from my pocket as I all but sprint toward your apartment complex. I'm worried. But then maybe you aren't, because you haven't called. I guess you think I'm not coming at all and you don't care. Or maybe I've hurt your feelings by not coming precisely at eight. But I never promised to come on time... just to come.

I arrive at your building and impatiently jam the button to be let in. Someone buzzes me up, but doesn't say anything. I can hear the party through the speakers. So loud. Maybe you're just busy with guests and have no idea what time it is. I'll stick with that answer. It makes me feel less bad.

I take the stairs up to your floor two at a time and as fast as I can. I have to knock four times at your door before someone I don't even know opens it and lets me in. I don't bother taking off my shoes... no one else has. I just put my jacket beside yours on the coat rack and head further into the house. I search for you for a good ten minutes before I start asking where you are. It's so damn crowded in here. No one seems to know where you went and everyone seems to have seen you 'just a minute ago'. It's driving me nuts. Are you even here? Or did you run off when no one was looking?

Finally, some girl in a way-too-short skirt tells me that you disappeared into your bedroom some time ago and asked not to be disturbed. There's an undertone in her voice that implies sex. I'm angry, jealous, and sad all at the same time. I don't even know what to do anymore. Maybe I should go... just leave you to your damn party and go continue to waste away by myself. I manage to thank the girl somehow. I know I sound angry. I know I shouldn't.

I spot your balcony door through the crowd and I make my way over. I slip outside, praying no one else is there. I get lucky: the balcony is empty. Maybe that's my one lucky thing for the year. I set the bottle down next to the railing as I fumble for my cigarettes and lighter, finally getting one from the pack and managing the light the end of it. I inhale deeply, searching for the soothing calm of the nicotine. But it doesn't come. It never does anymore. It's just as elusive as you are tonight.

I lean heavily on the railing, my foot almost kicking over the bottle in the process. For a moment I think about kicking it over the edge. It's for you and you're not here with me, so why did I bother? Oh yeah... I had something to prove. I squeeze my eyes shut in some ridiculous hope that by shutting them the world will change before I open them again.

When I do open them, there's something red dangling in front of my face. I have to blink twice before I realize it's just a stupid napkin. I turn slightly, expecting some drunken guest to think it's a cute game. Instead I find you, grinning at me like an idiot. I love it when you smile like that. But I can guess why you're wearing a smile and I know it wasn't me. The anger wells up again and I have to bite my lip to keep the words back.

"You came!"

I nod, still unwilling to let myself speak. I know I'll just yell at you. I can feel it; the irritation and hatred welling up inside of me.

"I thought you weren't when you didn't show up by ten."

You sound kind of sad. Or maybe that's my imagination again. I just shrug. "Got stuck helping someone." It's not entirely a lie. Maybe you won't ask what or where and I won't have to try to explain without lying to you.

"Mmm... well, I missed you anyway. Everyone here's almost a stranger to me."

I snort. I wish I hadn't right after I do it, but I can't take back what is already done. I find myself speaking and I know this can't end well. It never does. "Yeah, well, you must know at least one of them quite a bit better now, huh?"

"What?"

You look confused. Why do you look confused? It's not like I'm talking in circles here. I'm just stating a fact. Your look is so innocent... just like you aren't. I wanted you. I wanted to be yours. But instead you shared tonight with someone else. I wouldn't have even asked for sex from you. Just to be with you. It's all I wanted. Is that so hard to ask? I can feel myself losing it. My fragile hold on my emotions is completely gone. "The one you fucked. You... your bedroom... do not disturb. I'm not an idiot." I flick my cigarette angrily over the edge of the balcony. I can't calm myself down. Shit, shit, SHIT! Why can't I keep my damn mouth shut?!

"Wha- wait, you have it all wrong, Die. I was in there writing lyrics!"

You look astounded at my outburst. Can't blame you, so am I. I feel like turning around and leaping off the balcony just to get away from you and this mess. But then that'd just ruin New Year's for you. Instead I turn and pick up the bottle of non-alcoholic champagne and shove it into your hands. "Here... I brought it for you... for us. But I think I should go. You keep it."

I push past you and start to weave my way through the crowd. I can feel the tears welling up in my eyes. So much for my big plan. I guess I decided to force you out of my life instead of wishing for it all to find resolution. The first hot tears track down my cheeks just as your hand closes around my bicep.

You drag me into the kitchen and slam the door shut behind us, locking it to keep everyone else out. I can barely look at you, but from the glimpse I get you surprisingly don't look pissed off. I can't stop the tears, they're just pouring out like a dam has been broken inside of me.

I shudder as you run your hand down my arm in a soothing manner and I gasp when you enfold me in your arms. I can't help the words that leave my mouth and at least this time they're not angry words. "I'm sorry... so fucking sorry."

Your breath ghosts across my neck as you almost whisper your words. "Don't be. It's my fault." You pull back and my confused gaze meets yours.

I wipe my tears away, thankful that they've finally stopped. I feel stupid. Why did I have to cry in front of you? Why did I have to cry at all? Why can't I be the strong manly man I'm supposed to be? My mother used to say everyone needs to cry sometimes. But I don't want that to be me. "But I am... I'm sorry for so much."

"Such as?" You turn and place the bottle on the counter, working to open it and get some glasses to fill.

I watch you for a moment before I reply. "Everything. I'm sorry for what happened between us. I'm sorry for being a jerk. I'm sorry for being angry when I have no right to be. And most of all... I'm sorry for not being who I should be for you." I'm sorry for loving you the way I do. I can't say that, but I want to. I want to be sorry for it so that I can get over you. You'd want that... wouldn't you?

You turn around and hand me one of the glasses of non-alcoholic champagne and lead me out of the kitchen and back out onto the balcony. Once we're there, you just lean against the railing for a long while, idly sipping at the drink. When you finally speak up, it's not about what I expect. "I like this." You tilt your drink slightly in indication, a soft smile on your lips. "Thank you for remembering I don't like to drink."

I stare at my feet before trying some of it myself. It's not half bad. "I didn't just get it for that. I brought it so that I wouldn't drink this year and make you upset."

You turn to look at me, something I can't quite identify dancing in your eyes. If I could capture that look and keep it forever, I would. I want so badly to touch you. Just to run my fingers across your beautiful face for only a moment. I swallow hard against the lump in my throat and look away.

"Thank you."

You smile. I don't even have to see it in order to feel it. Your smile could make me warm a million miles away.

Inside I can hear the people start the countdown to the New Year. I gesture at the door, silently asking if you want to go back in. You shake your head and so I stay frozen where I am, desperately trying to remember what my resolution was; exactly how it was worded.

8-

My mind flits over the thoughts of you and me together over the years. Indies days, even all the way back to La:Sadie's. Present... and future. God, is that future dismal without you. I choke back the threat of too great an emotion.

7-

My resolution, basically written in stone. I can remember it now... too clearly.

6-

I hold it and save it, not wanting to make it reality just yet. It's not quite time for that.

5-

I look up at you. You're a bit closer than you were before, but I don't really think anything of it. I just want to see you like this one last time.

4-

I think about how it will be once I've made this resolution. About how much it'll hurt me and how good it'll be for you. It causes my breath to get stuck in my chest and an ache to start in my heart.

3-

I don't want to let go of you. I can't... can I? I will. I have to.

2-

Now. Now is when I have to do it. I squeeze my eyes shut, a single tear making its way down my cheek as I do. I resolve that this year, I will let go of you. This year, I will get over you and walk out of your life as anything but your bandmate. This year, I swear that I'll do all of that and keep every promise I ever made you at the same time. Even with you gone, I won't let you down.

1-

My heat breaks in half. My soul shatters into a thousand little pieces. I've committed deep blue suicide. A suicide of the heart. Blue and melancholy, deeper than I imagined I could ever feel. I want to burst out sobbing, but I don't.

I feel your arms around me and I tense. No. Why? Gods, why? Get off of me. I can't. I won't. Just leave me alone!

"Happy New Year, Die."

And then your lips are on mine. I can't breathe again. So soft. And I'm kissing you back. I just swore I'd walk out of your life and you have to go and do this. Oh sweet sin, why? My glass falls forgotten to the ground and shatters at our feet. You don't even flinch and I barely notice. I'm in another world; living within you. Nothing can touch me but you.

We stay like that for so long I can't even tell time anymore. I can hear the fireworks going off behind us somewhere and I don't really care. I'm frozen to my spot, not wanting to move in case I'm dreaming. But my dreams never tasted like you. All the second-hand tastes in the world can't amount to how you really taste beneath my tongue. Your essence has matured like a fine wine. It's become more and more you since the last time I had this pleasure. It's so you that I'm drunk off of it. Or at least my pain is all gone.

Almost reluctantly, you pull back, your thumb gently tracing my cheek as you do. I remember to breathe again. But now I'm breaking once more. Why'd you do it? Were you just showing me what I can't have? Or giving me what you thought I wanted for one split second? I stare at you for a moment before closing my eyes and looking away, fighting back everything I feel.

"Should I apologize?"

You sound apprehensive, unsure. Why would you be unsure of your own actions? I look at you again, my eyes searching yours for all the answers. Slowly I shake my head. I don't want you to be sorry for something I wanted so much. "No..."

"Then I'm not wrong?"

Confusion clouds my gaze. "About what?"

"You. Me." Your hands settle on my hips and you move about as close as humanly possible. "Us."

"Us?" My voice sounds pitiful.

You smile at me and it's the brightest one I've seen from you in years. "Us." Your lips find mine again for a moment and then you pull away. "I want this just as much as I suspect you do, Die."

No... you can't mean that. You're teasing me. But you wouldn't do that. You're not that cruel and your smile wouldn't be so real if you were playing a game with me. So... you have to mean it. You want to be with me. I can barely wrap my mind around it. Wait. Maybe you _want_ me and not to _be_ with me. I'll take what I can, but I have to know which it is. I slip my arms around your waist and pull you impossibly closer. "What's your definition of 'this'?" My voice wavers, the fear I feel showing.

You sigh softly and move one hand to my chest, idly drawing patterns there. "This... us. Kaoru told me that you like me as more than a friend. I deducted the bisexual part from that and well... here we are." You glance up at me like you're expecting me to get angry with you. "I've always felt there was something more than friendship between us. Maybe this is it... maybe this is why."

I can feel the sob of happiness before I hear it leave me. Then I'm clutching you against me like you're my anchor to life. You are... but maybe you don't know that.

You laugh softly and hug me back equally as hard. "I take it that means you like that definition."

I turn my head and gently kiss your neck, right over your tattoo. "Fuck yes, I do." I'm so happy now. I'm not lost in my own thoughts anymore. You are my guiding light out of the darkness. I can hear the cheers from inside. Probably someone doing something stupid. But I ignore them, while at the same time using them to try to hide my words. "I love you so much..."

Your fingers run up my side ever so gently and you maneuver us so that you can kiss me once more. It's gentle but quick. I don't mind though, because I have the world in front of me now. I smile when you pull back and meet your eyes when you look so intently at me. "I think I might be in love with you, too."

My heart stops dead in my chest. Never did I expect those words to leave your lips. Never did I expect my every dream to be fulfilled. I'm shaking as I pull you back into my arms. I take it all back. I don't want to forget about you or get over you or any of what I said. "Can I change my New Year's resolution?"

You laugh softly in my ear and then nod. "Of course."

I turn my head to whisper in your ear. "Then I swear to keep you happy and keep all of my promises to you. I promise to keep you in my life and not ever let go of what I feel for you. I swear to make the best out of this... out of us."

Your hand trails lightly down my back. "So do I."

Maybe this is the proof I've been waiting for all of this time. This moment frozen in time. For so long I've been wasting away, losing myself along the way. But now... now I'm whole again. You've brought me back everything I'd lost over the years and you're trying so hard to put it all back in the right places. At least now if I cry when I'm thinking of you, it'll be for happier reasons. A New Year, a new me... a new relationship and an old companion. It never felt right without you in my arms. That hole inside of me is gone. You've filled it with all that you are and all that you will ever be. You complete me.

And maybe, just maybe, I complete you, too.


	5. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wish... I wish just once more, I could feel you in my arms. It's too late in the year for wishes though. Christmas is coming and I know I'll never get what I truly want. The dream and the hope are too far fetched. I want the moon and the stars and all I can grasp is the reflection of the sun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still a part of the kyo_x_die Community Contest (December 1st - February 1st). Also for 024: Wet prompt from y!weekly. The part of me that can't write without smut demanded this, lol. Deal with it. XD I decided to kind of do snapshots from a point in time. Makes as much sense as anything else would.

Words struggling softly in the back of my mind. My fingers slip across the surface of what I still hold to be a piece of you. Why is it that even with you so firmly implanted in my life, I still cannot let go? Eight months... it's late August now. I should be well beyond this crazy, locked-up portion of myself, but I'm not. All of my insecurities are still here, lying right beneath the surface. It's like no matter how hard I try to be the person I once was, I'll never achieve it again. Instead of being lost in a whirlpool of my own emotions, I'm drowning in a sea of you and what you create.

I lay here in the semi-darkness of the room, clutching this small piece of you to my chest. My breath comes in quickly and leaves just as fast. It's not that I'm panicked or fearful of what we have. In all honesty, it's that I'm afraid of myself and what I'm capable of. I'm afraid I'll rip us in two with what I want. I'm afraid you'll realize there's more to what I desire than what I've shown you and you'll leave me because of it.

I roll over and stare up at the ceiling, wondering how I've gotten through life like this. Have I always feared how someone important would react to how I feel? Or is this something that belongs to only us?

I hate this. I hate how I doubt everything I feel and everything I do when it concerns you. I hate how I can't just let myself be who I am; instead pretending to be what I think you want. Vaguely I realize that my internal derision has only switched focus over the past eight months. Just a minor sway in the way I look at things.

I know you say you love me. I know you care on a level beyond that of most people around me. I know you enjoy being with me and around me. But would you still enjoy it if you knew the truth? Would you still love me if you knew all the dirty things I've done in the dark with you in mind? Would you care for me the same if it all came out the way I desire it to? Somehow, I doubt it.

The things you've confessed to me since we've been together... they remain fresh in my mind. You like my presence because it calms you and helps you think clearer, even if I'm just sitting beside you. You like me to hold you because I warm you on a cold day and you think my skin is smooth. You like kissing me because I never demand too much from it - with me, a kiss is just a kiss. You like me because of my smile and ability to display all the emotions you claim to have trouble with in reality. You like me for a million more reasons.

But you'd hate me for the things I do not let you see. You'd hate me for the burning desire that I can barely contain. You'd hate me for wishing we had more than we do in our relationship. You'd hate me for hating that all we do is kiss. You'd hate me for the scars you don't even know exist, and hate me even more for creating them. You'd hate me for hating myself like this.

I turn over again, this time laying the book on the pillow next to me. I murmur a soft goodnight to it as I turn away to face the window. I close my eyes and let myself pretend that I'm alone; ignoring the ever-watchful piece of you lying behind me. I wish I wasn't so attached to it when you're not here. Maybe then, being alone when I need to be would be easier. But life isn't that simple for me.

Slowly, I slide my hand inside my boxers and begin to stroke myself into hardness. My breathing quickens almost in tandem with my pulse. My own fingers are a familiar and welcome feeling. I desperately try not to think of you for once... and I fail utterly and completely. My hand becomes yours and the warmth of my bed melts into the heat of your body. Reality slips quietly away as it's replaced by fantasy. I tremble at my own touch, so close to the edge already. It never takes much these days. You drive me to the brink without even touching me.

My hips snap forward against my hand and I yank my boxers away at the last second, my cum splashing out over the sheets instead. I relax as I let myself come down from my high, wishing like hell I wasn't alone. But I'm always alone at night now. The only comfort in it is that you are, too. I grab a fistful of tissues from the nightstand and mop up my mess, tossing the evidence into the garbage at my side.

I stare in disgust at the basket for a while; loathing the fact that it's almost full and I emptied it just last week. Why am I so weak? You wouldn't be. You probably never do this to yourself. Though, I admit, my mind really wishes you did and that one day I'll catch you and be able to watch from a dark corner. Is that wrong of me? Maybe so.

I roll over again, wondering now what you'd say if you knew that I'd done this kind of thing on the couch you sit on every time you come over. Maybe you'd never sit there again. I suddenly have the urge to go and dirty every surface you could possibly touch with myself. Maybe if I did, part of my desire would rub off on you and you'd want me in return. But then, it'd probably backfire, and you'd want yourself instead.

I drift off to sleep, plenty more disturbingly wrong thoughts passing before my mind's eye.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Practice... I hate practice these days. I shouldn't, but I do. I wouldn't if it weren't for you and your seductive movements eternally laid out before me. Every sway of your hips, every slide of your hands - it eats me alive inside. By the time we're done, I want nothing more than to jump you and fuck you until you scream for me.

But that'd be wrong. If there's a time that we ever get to go down that road, I want it to be out of love, not out of lust. Somehow that's wrong, too. Because I can't get rid of the lust I feel for you, no matter how hard I try.

I'm seeing a counselor... I wonder if you know that. If you do, you haven't said anything about it. But then, it's my business and you wouldn't stick your nose in it unless you felt you had to anyway. I let a half-sigh slip past my lips and I kneel down and pack up my guitar. I go and see the man once a week now. I was getting too absorbed in myself... or at least it felt that way. It's kind of absurd. Who'd have thought that _I_ would ever have to get sexual counseling? Not me, and probably not you.

I just... I don't know where to go from here. I realized from day one that I am your first boyfriend. A million and one girlfriends lay in the past, but that doesn't count. I'm not a girl and so it's different. I've convinced some part of myself that, while you love me, you don't want me the way I want you. The counselor says I'm probably wrong, but he doesn't know you. He doesn't realize that you've only kissed me and when I even touched your thigh, you got up and left the room. I can't tell him that, because it hurts too much to even remember.

I jerk roughly at an unfamiliar touch on my shoulder. When I look up, Kaoru's standing over me, giving me a confused look.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, why?"

He shakes his head at me and shrugs. "You're glaring at your guitar like it just told you that your mother sucks hairy balls."

I arch an eyebrow at him, a half-amused smirk dancing across my lips. Well, at least he knows how to refocus my attention. "And what if it did?"

"Then I'd suggest doing more than staring at it like that. Maybe play it so hard, it screams."

I chuckle softly as I close the case and get to my feet. "Nah, it didn't do anything. I was just thinking, that's all."

"Hmm... relationship problems?"

I bite my tongue softly, wondering how much he knows and how much I should share. I finally meet his eyes and give him a half-hearted smile. "Yeah, kinda."

"Kinda, how?"

"Nothing I think I should talk about."

He leans against the wall and fold his arms across his chest. "Listen... if it's about you and Kyo, I think maybe it'd be best if someone who knows you both helped. Know what I mean?"

I glance around the room somewhat nervously, wondering where the others have gone. Even Kyo has disappeared though.

"Die... please, it's not like I don't understand the mechanics of your relationship." He tugs me over to the couch and we sit down beside one another.

For a while I just sit there, staring at my hands. Maybe it will be easier because it's Kaoru and not some stranger I'm paying. I take a deep breath and close my eyes, willing the words out. "Tell me how to get rid of parts of my feelings." A blush heats my cheeks and I hide behind my hair as best I can.

His fingers tuck my hair behind my ear and rob me of my privacy screen. "What feelings?"

My fingers twist together nervously in my lap. It's like they have minds of their own and want to interact on some deeper level or something. Okay, so maybe that's crazy. I lift my gaze to the wall on the other side of the room and swallow hard. "I dunno... does desire count as a feeling?"

He shifts in his seat and I can almost see his expression in my mind. He's probably staring at me like I've lost it. "Yes... but why would you want to get rid of it?"

I shrug slightly. "Too much of it. I don't want it to be a part of me anymore."

I can feel him move again and then his hand is resting lightly on my back. "Um... I know this is awkward, but just bear with me, okay?"

I nod almost imperceptibly, but he still sees it.

"How do I put this?" He scratches his head nervously before dropping his hand and letting it rest in his lap. "Have you two done anything beyond kiss?"

I glance at him and all I see is concern in his eyes, so I shake my head.

"You've been together since New Year's, right?"

Another nod. I feel like a bobble-headed doll.

"And you seriously haven't even ever touched each other?"

I swallow hard. "Uh... do you count me touching his thigh and him running off?"

If this were anime, he'd have a gigantic sweat drop hanging off the side of his head. I think I just broke Kaoru. Somehow that makes me almost want to laugh, but I don't.

"Um... wow. I don't even know what to tell you. Maybe you took it wrong and he just had to use the restroom or something?" He looks as perplexed as I feel.

"Maybe..."

"Have you tried again?"

I turn to fully look at him, my expression incredulous. "What? No way. I'm not a glutton for punishment, you know."

"I should hope not. But trying again really wouldn't be so bad. At least I wouldn't think so. When'd you last try?"

"I dunno... maybe two months in."

"Jesus, Die. How did _you_ wait that long?"

"What?! I'm not a total slut, thank you!"

He holds up his hands in mock defeat. "I'm not saying you are. But I know you've wanted to be with him for years now. You must have the patience of a saint to have waited that long and then only tried once."

I snort. "No saints here, Kao. I'm actually seeing a counselor now..."

He eyes me like I've lost my mind. "What on earth for?"

I blush and stare at my hands again, eventually holding one up in the air. "For liking this too much?"

When I look at him again, there's a smile tugging at his lips, but he isn't letting it out yet. "Is that even possible?"

I grunt. "My trashcan says it is."

Finally, he's smiling. He keeps trying to frown instead and ends up looking like his face is trying to eat itself. "Die... seriously, you need to try with him again. We can't have your damn hand falling off from jerking off too much. We kind of need it for you to play guitar with."

I glare at him, but it's half-assed because I'm not really mad. "Haha. Thank you for the lovely advice. I still know nothing that I didn't already."

"Then talk to him about it. Ask how he feels about the sexual aspect of your relationship. At least that way, you'll get your answers without embarrassing yourself in the process."

I shrug and make a non-committal sound.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Two more weeks have passed since Kaoru and I had our little after-work discussion. I can't get it out of my head that maybe he's right and I just need to talk it out with you. But what the hell am I supposed to say? 'Hey, Kyo, I want to fuck you and I think you'll hate me for it. Am I right?' Oh, yeah, _fantastic_ idea, Die. How about you go jump off the Empire State building while you're at it? That'd be just about as brilliant.

Okay, so I'm yelling at myself in my head now. This should go well.

When you knock on the door, I all but yank it open, barking at you to come in. You eye me warily, but don't say anything about it, just taking off your shoes and heading into the living room to plop down on my couch.

I watch you for a minute before following and sitting carefully beside you, ensuring that my hip isn't touching yours, but I'm still close enough to feel your body heat. Is it sad that I know the exact distance to sit from you like this? Maybe, maybe not. I don't want to dwell on it right now.

I flip on the television and start the DVD that you helped me pick out over the phone. It's stupid and kind of cheesy that I've invited you over for a movie. I feel like a damn teenager. Only I know I'll end up watching the movie rather than making out with you. Or maybe I won't. I have to keep reminding myself that today is for one last experiment before I talk with you. I wonder if you'd have come over if you knew what I was plotting. Why does it matter? You're here, that's all that should matter.

We sit there until the movie's almost half over. Your hand finds mine and you entwine your fingers with my own. My heart thumps heavily in my chest. I really do react to you like a teenager to their first crush. How depressing.

For a while, I'm happy just having you touch me at all, but then I start to want to kiss you so badly, I can taste you on my tongue. I close my eyes and try to will away the images. Somehow I only manage to make it worse. I shift around, trying to make my pants feel a little less tight as I attempt to refocus on the movie.

Finally, I can't stand it anymore. The images in my head are taunting me and my cock is throbbing in my pants. It's now or never. I turn slightly, pulling my leg up on the couch and I slide one arm around your waist. You don't pull away, instead almost sinking into me. I shift a little more, bringing my hand up to cup your cheek and turn you to face me. You don't resist and instead smile up at me. I lean in, gently capturing your lips with my own, initiating something more than I have in the past.

I usually never kiss you first. But tonight, I can't just wait on you. I need you and everyone's right. I can't just keep this all to myself and eat myself up inside because of it.

I swipe my tongue over your lower lip, asking for entry, and you give it willingly. You let me dominate the entire thing; you don't even try to fight me for it. I deepen the kiss until I'm ravaging your mouth the way I want to devastate your body. I can't help it and a moan slips past my lips as I shift over you slightly, pulling you closer to me in the process.

My fingers slide across your chest, pausing at your abdomen as I push your shirt up, pushing my fingers under the material. You gasp into our kiss as my fingers dance over your skin. I want to feel more of you. I'm so damn greedy. I pull you with me as I lay us both back on the couch and settle between your thighs.

For a minute, I just look at you, not even moving at all. You stare back up at me, something dark dancing in your eyes. Then you're moving, your hands running over my sides ever so gently, urging me on. Maybe I have been reading this wrong all along and you do want me. Or maybe I fell asleep on the couch and am having the best damn dream ever.

I lean down and capture your lips with mine once more. You taste better every time. I wonder if you know that. You shift your hips upward and brush against my arousal. I groan as I pull back from our kiss, burying my head against your shoulder. My hips press back against you, wanting more of that delicious contact. You let your head fall back and your fingers dig into my sides as you thrust up against me over and over. I can feel your arousal pressing back on mine and that alone tosses the last of my inhibitions aside.

I stand up and pull you up from the couch with me, all but dragging you down the hall to my bedroom. I kick the door shut behind us as I back you up onto the bed. You crawl up to the top willingly, laying back and beckoning for me to follow. Almost immediately, we end up all over each other again. I can't seem to keep my hands to myself at all... not that you seem to mind.

I moan as your fingers brush over the front of my pants and you begin to work at my belt. You make fast work of my pants and I do the same to yours, not wanting to give either of us time for second thoughts. Before I can really think about it, we're both completely devoid of clothes and I'm kissing you again.

My hand slides down your side and rests lightly on your hip bone, my thumb drawing little circles there. You arch into my touch and break our kiss to beg. "Hnn... more..." Your voice is so full of need I think that just maybe I've been suffering less than you all along. I slide my hand across your hip, pausing for only a moment before I grasp your arousal, squeezing gently. You buck hard against me, a low moan slipping free of your throat. Such a sexy sound. I always knew you'd be verbal like this... or, at least, I always hoped you would be. You surprise me as your hand wraps around my neglected erection and you begin pumping it fast. My hips jerk roughly against your hand.

Before long, we're lost in the simple pleasure of feeling one another like this. You're moaning beneath me like you've never known this pleasure before. And me... I'm just lost in you and the feelings you're giving me. Part of me is surprised I'm not as close as I thought I would be for our first time together. But maybe my body's been saving up time for you.

You claw at my back with your free hand as your leg wraps around my waist. "Fuck me." The way you growl those two words at me makes me realize that maybe this is what you'd been waiting on - for me to dominate you, rather than the other way around. My cock throbs impatiently, now wanting to do just that.

I lean past you and fumble in the drawer for a minute before finding the lube and a condom. You lick at my nipples as I do and I almost drop the lube in surprise. You're so bold when you're under me like this. Finally, I sit back and push your legs further apart as I coat my fingers with the clear liquid. You watch me, something that's not quite curiosity in your eyes. I watch you for a second, deliberating, and then I thrust two fingers hard into you. You arch damn near off the bed as you cry out, your voice breaking in the way it does so often on stage. I pause, letting you adjust to the intrusion and wondering if I chose the right path or not. You lay there panting softly and finally open your eyes to stare up at me.

A smirk dances over your lips and you roll your hips, pushing my fingers in deeper. So my baby likes some pain with his pleasure. A smile tugs at my lips as I pull my fingers out and shove them back in again. You cry out again, this time letting it fade off into a moan as I continue moving them in and out of your body. You tremble beneath me before reaching out and trying to grab my wrist. I blink down at you, wondering if you've somehow changed your mind. You swat my hand and glare up at me. "Don't be so damn insecure! Fuck me already, damn it!"

I can't help but laugh softly as I slide a third finger into you and twist my hand. You act in bed like you act on stage. It's kind of amusing to find out that while I get to date the you that I'm so completely used to, I get to sleep with the rock star.

I pull my fingers away and you whimper as I pull the condom over myself. Quickly, I coat my erection with the cool, wet liquid and position myself at your entrance. I want you so bad, I'm trembling with the effort of not just taking you. Slowly I push in, pausing once the head of my cock slips past the tight ring of muscle trying to keep me out. My mouth finds yours and I thrust the rest of the way in, my hips slamming forward almost violently.

You cry out into my mouth and I swallow your sounds just as greedily as I'd take anything else you'd give me. I rock my hips against you almost teasingly. You make a disgruntled sound beneath me and begin to frantically thrust your hips against me. You tear your lips away from mine and let out the most pitiful sound I've ever heard come from a grown man. "Just do it, Die. I _need_ you! We'll be slow later." Your short nails scrape down my back, as if urging me forward.

I groan as I pull out and then slam back in. I set up deep, fast strokes in and out of you. I can hear my skin slapping against yours and that sound has never been more erotic than it is right now. You bring your legs up and wrap them around my waist, clinging to me and forcing me to put my body weight on you as I screw you into the mattress almost frantically. The bed squeaks in protest, but right now I could care less if I break it. It'd be worth it.

Your moans fill the room and I'm certain my neighbors now know I'm getting some. Good, let them know! I thrust as hard as I can, my body connecting with yours violently each and every time. You tense under me and I know you're going to cum. A half-choked scream falls from your lips and I put on my last burst of speed, determined to follow you over the edge. I feel your wet release splash across my abdomen and I only have to push myself into you twice more before my own cry is mingling with yours. I just stay there, buried deep inside of you as I release. I know you can feel me cumming inside of you. Part of me wishes there wasn't a barrier between us so that I could mark you as eternally mine.

My body gives out and I have to rest against you for a moment before I pull out and dispose of the used condom. I drop back down beside you and wrap you in my arms. "I didn't hurt you too bad, did I?"

You chuckle against my shoulder. "No way."

I smirk up at the ceiling. "So, were you just waiting on me to start something this whole time?"

"Yeah."

I groan softly. "Mother fucker."

"Hey!" You punch my arm. "That's my line!"

I laugh as I pull you closer and trap your arms. "Doesn't change the fact that I've been frustrated for months because of that!"

"Well... I just had to make you grow a pair so you could sex me the right way."

"You could have just told me that you wanted me to top you, you know."

"Too easy."

I shake my head as I idly stroke your back. You're never going to cease to amaze me. What will it be next? I'm not sure I even want to know at this rate... and yet, I do. I just need to lighten up and maybe you're here to teach me that as well. "I love you."

You curl up closer to me and I can feel your smile buried against my chest. I don't need you to say it back to know the truth. It's there and it always will be. I'm glad New Year's changed everything. If it hadn't, I wouldn't have such a wonderful man by my side. Sappy, but true.


End file.
